The Heat Limit
The forecast said it would be the hottest day of the year. The sky was blue and no cloud was seen. There was wind, as it was every year. They nailed it by calling the race “Against-the-Wind-Triathlon”, every time I participated the name was part of the game. Nobody put on their wetsuit while walking over the beach towards the start, everyone waited for the last possible second.
I was looking forward to the challenge. With the starting signal I jumped into the swell of the north sea for the 1500m swim. Everything went like in the other years. As soon as I got out of the water that changed. The sun quickly heated up the black wetsuit and as soon as I left the waves I took it off for the 200m run over the hot sand to the transition zone. Making an exception as to the hot weather, the organisers didn’t persist on the rule that only allows to pull it down to the waist until reaching the bike. I felt great getting on the road.
For the 40km flat and windy bike course I had prepared two bottles. One contained a drink with carbohydrates to get myself over the distance, the other one just pure water to get through the heat. So far the plan. After trying my energy drink though I realised I could not drink it. I put too much powder into the water and it felt like drying my mouth when I took a sip. It seemed to suck water out of my body instead of quenching my thirst. I was left with one bottle of water for drinking and cooling my body down. Still, I felt good after getting off the bike.
The following 10km run goes across a short soft sand section into a forest in the dunes. The ground is great for running, it goes up and down a little and it is mostly in the shade. During the first lap I felt good, I was in the zone, but following my dislike for walking or even slowing down more than necessary I barely drank anything again. Towards the second and final lap, I was later told, I looked so miserable (“your lips were blue!”), that no pictures were taken. And the lap was tough. It was hot. My toungue was dry. My head felt huge. I stopped thinking about everything but the path in front of me. I managed to keep running slowly.
I know for the last 1km I can always push myself to the edge. Go full steam ahead without breaking down. I knew the course, so I did. I remember scraping together everything I had left having in mind that the finish line was close and everything would be over. I passed other athletes. One after the other, also struggling with the heat. Maybe even just on their first lap. 12 over all, the count pushed me forward. Then I finished.
I got down on all fours. My vision turned black. I could hear the people around me and I could talk to them, but I could not see anything. I was taken into an ambulance. My resting pulse was above 140. Withing short time I got 3.5l of infusion while drinking another 0.5l of an isotonic drink.
Laying down there I remember being talkative, maybe partly to comfort my relatives that I was good. I recovered quickly, the measures doing its work. But this day, I learned some things I will never forget:
The feeling of dehydration. I will never forget but always recognise it.
Preparation of race nutrition changes races. I now rather have a more watery drink on short races, ultimately the body will find energy somewhere else if needed.
Sometimes it is a good idea to walk, if it means you can drink a lot.
No matter how battered you are, your mind can always take you to the finish line.
Did you have heat races, too? What are your experiences and what did you learn from them?